
tendency to write down mantras. . .
(aka)
“penchant”

I was enarmored
with him. . .
embattled and
weary of
steel exteriors
–hardened from years
in the field–
no Eros, I
want to
lance his heart,
as much as love it.

I reason
with rhyme,
but season with salt
I like to catch fish,
write stories about
–the length of their life
the brilliance of scales,
I lie without tryin’
pennin’ fish tales.

I put on my
red car
1 aXle
at a time
–just like everyone else–
swallow hard against
the echo of exhaust
coating my throat. . .
grey swimming up
iris–
a soup that’s
fin
free.

MiMi & Eugene
moved.
Got
US
passports
and opened a retreat in a
Wee
city
north of
Dublin.
In constant
Theta state,
the pair
felt
Wonderful.